


Not So Far

by Redtail53



Series: Stronger [1]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Comic Book Science, Cosmic Shenanigans, F/M, Feelings, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Canon Fix-It, Temporary Amnesia, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-02-09 07:13:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18633352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redtail53/pseuds/Redtail53
Summary: Three years later, and eight years after the Decimation, an anomaly brings Stephen Strange face to face with someone familiar.Formally called Redemption. Not beta read.SPOILER HEAVYSeriously. Like. the whole thing.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Last chance to turn back if haven't seen Endgame.
> 
>  
> 
> No? You're still here?
> 
>  
> 
> K, I'm just gonna assume you've seen it, now. Don't say I didn't warn you.
> 
> \-----------------  
> check my twitter for story updates and other ramblings  
> @redtail53

Three years have passed since the Vanished became the Returned. Three years since Steve Rogers disappeared off the face of the planet, with only a small few knowing his true fate. Three years since Natasha Romanoff gave her life for the soul stone. Three years since a man lost his best friend, three years since a wife became a widow, three years since a little girl lost her father.

Three years since the world lost three Avengers.  
The Soldier. The Spy. The Mechanic.  
Captain America. Black Widow. Iron Man.

Perhaps it was guilt, even after three years, that kept Stephen Strange visiting this place more often than he cared to admit, even to Wong. _(Though Wong probably already knew.)_ He knew that Rogers and Romanoff made their choices. Rogers to put down the shield and live out his life with the woman he loved; Romanoff to give her life for so many others. And logically, he knew that Stark had made his choice as well. A choice that had saved his small family, not just the world. He well knew what he was doing, what would happen the moment he took the stones.

The moment he snapped his fingers.

Stephen knew that Stark knew the moment he saw the look in his eyes and understood that _this_ was their _one_ chance. And he’d felt guilty over that ever since. He knew there was no other way. He _knew_ that Stark sacrificing himself meant that trillions of others would live without Thanos and his Black Order hanging over them with the promise of annihilation.

But that did nothing to ease the guilt.

Stephen Strange looked up at the faces of the three fallen Avengers, their likeness perfectly captured in bronze, poised as if ready for battle. The memorial had been erected less than a year after Thanos' defeat. The Avengers themselves and the Stark family permitting it's creation and overseeing the design. A fourth Avenger had been included, though he’d fallen eight years ago. Vision floated, hands out at his sides, a single toe touching the main base of the statue. With his left gauntlet raised and aimed at an unseen enemy, Iron Man stood to Vision’s left and slightly forward from the fallen android. To Iron Man’s left, a single step behind was Captain America, his shield on his left arm pulled back and poised to throw like an oversized frisbee. And finally, on the Captain's left, knelt Black Widow on one knee. Her Widow’s Bites raised, her face forever frozen in a characteristic determined expression. Flowers were still pilled up at the base, support for the two families that lost these one of a kind heroes. Kindly, those who placed the flowers made sure the inscription behind could still be read.

It was guilt that kept him coming back here.

 _"Vision - Iron Man - Captain America - Black Widow_  
_Heroes without measure"_

Guilt that there wasn’t another way to save them _all_ .

_01010100 01101111 01101110 01111001_

At four years old, Morgan H. Stark lost her father. A few days after, when she realized for real that he was never coming home, she stole one of his old band t-shirts. One that still smelled like him. It was dark with a faded yellow graphic that could barely be made out anymore. One of his favorites. She’d hold the shirt close and imagine she was in his arms again. The smell of black coffee, grease and motor oil. The smell of tin solder and electronics.

It only took a few weeks for the smell to fade completely, and her mother found her clutching the old Black Sabbath shirt and soaking it with her tears.

At five years old she realized she was forgetting the sound of his voice, his laugh, even the subdued frustrated sounds he made when something he was working on wasn’t panning out. Knowing that Friday recorded everything, she asked the AI to play his voice. Friday chose the last time she’d heard his voice for real.

 _“Uhhh Morgan Stark had a juice-pop and went to sleep. The end.”_  
_“What are you talking about? That’s your favorite story.”  
_“Go to sleep or I’ll sell all your toys.”

She asked Friday for another recording. A longer one. And she fell asleep to her father’s voice as Pepper watched on unseen with silent tears.

At six, she could hardly remember the feel of being in his arms, or the scratchiness of his beard when he kissed her forehead goodnight, or the feel of his fingers brushing her hair from her face. She was forgetting everything about him, and that made the hurt even worse.

 _“I love you 3000, Daddy.”  
_ _“I love you 3000.”_

At age seven is when the resentment set in. He’d died to save the world, she was smart enough at four to know that. Smart enough to understand that he’d saved so, so many people, more than she could count at that age. More than she could count at seven. But it was so very unfair. Her Uncles, her brothers, and her mother told so many stories, so many things she was not alive for, or things she didn’t remember anymore. The world had more time with him than she did. He’d died saving the world… why couldn’t he save himself? Why couldn’t _someone_ save him? She hated that no one had tried to save him. She hated that he’d left. She hated that last juice-pop, that last story, that last kiss, that last empty threat.

_“Go to sleep or I’ll sell all your toys.”_

_I hate him._  
_I miss him._

_"I love you 3000, Daddy."_

_01110011 01110100 01100001 01110010 01101011_

In the grand scheme of things, cosmic anomalies aren’t that uncommon. Their importance often had more to do with what caused the anomaly, not the anomaly itself. Though sometimes an anomaly caused problems of their own, most times nothing big was affected by it.

So when an anomaly brought Stephen Strange from his meditation like being hit by a semi, he knew it would be unwise to ignore it. Anomalies like this were caused only by very, very powerful individuals or items. And while this anomaly appeared to be far from Earth, he well knew that things far away could one day cause big problems in your backyard. Thanos, for example.

Shaky hands plucked the sling ring from his belt and he concentrated on the place he saw only too briefly. He closed his eyes and recalled every detail of the crowded alien marketplace. Every stall, every tattered flag, every grain of sand and dust and rock. Every person, human and alien alike that he’d seen walk that hot and dusty street.

Stepping out from his portal onto another world felt like it should be more climactic, but after Titan it had become mundane. Normal. Just like this marketplace. So normal, filled with normal people with normal lives, that it was boring. His cloak billowed out behind him slightly, and pulled back and to his right, a hint. _Go this way._ Stephen had long ago learned to trust the Cloak of Levitation, knowing that in most cases it knew more about what was happening than Stephen himself.

The man walked slowly, but deliberately, up the street, urged on by the cloak gently guiding him to where he needed to go. There were so many sounds, so many different pitches, so many inflections. He listened for clues, words spoken in familiar and strange tongues. Stephen stopped when another sound reached his ears. Steady. Rhythmic ...like metal on metal.

_Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang._

The cloak pushed him forward again, toward the sound, towards what looked like a forge. The closer he got, the more the heat seemed to intensify, but he needed to understand what the cloak already seemed to know, what it was so insistent that he find. Stephen scanned the mostly empty forge and saw two figures: one an alien, and one more human in appearance though it was hard to tell from behind.

The alien, a portly fellow, greeted him as any good store owner would, praising his wares as the best in the system. Scanning the mention wares, they seemed rather… medieval in his opinion. Swords and such. There were some more advanced items, but nothing that screamed ‘The Best In The System’.

Strange looked toward the back, where the sound was coming from, at the human figure completely absorbed in his work, hammer rising and falling on rapidly cooling alien metal. There was a certain… familiarity he couldn’t place.

_“Gotta say, he’s not really my friend.”_

It couldn’t be.

_“Saving his life is more of a professional courtesy.”_

The man turned to dip what he was working on in a bucket to cool the metal, and in that moment when he could see the profile of his face, he knew even though denial poked at him.

_...Tony...?_

* * *

“ _Have you ever had days where the sun don't shine_  
_well I know for sure that I've had mine_  
_those days aren't fair no they don't feel right_  
_but just keep on trying to spark that light_  
_watching over you_  
_from a different view_  
_you're_ **not so far** ”

Watching over you - Airplanes, Zayde Wolf

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw Endgame on the 26th.  
> I am still shook, heartbroken and this is my therapy.
> 
>  
> 
> This will be a fix-it, kinda? Idk. I don't know when I'll work on this more when I have other stories I really need to work on again  
> *cough*Secrets*cough*
> 
> All I can say is that it won't be a one-shot.  
> I'll probably poke at this when I can't sleep cause I'm awake sobbing over this fandom.


	2. Probabilities and Impossibilities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He felt his brain short out for the second time that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning on posting another chapter so soon, but this plot bunny won't leave me alone.  
> I also wasn't planning on it being so long. So uhhh here you go. Over 2000 accidental words. Just for you guys.
> 
> Thanks for all the kudos, bookmarks and comments! Ya'll are amazing <3

In the three years since Tony’s death, Pepper had hoped that the board of directors would be just a  _ bit _ more cooperative. She was clearly incharge of things now, seeing as she was not just CEO but now the owner of Stark Industries as well. She’d started dreading board meetings early on back when she and Tony were just starting to explore a relationship, after the whole Hammer debacle. But now, somehow, it was worse. Though in the next few minutes that would change.

She and Tony had tried their best to get rid of the board, and either not have one at all, or replace them with ones who could be trusted. Of the six older men at the table with her, four were at least pleasant to work with, people that her and Tony had hand-chosen. The other two, however, were hold outs from Stanes’ days as COO, and while they hadn’t made any noticeable incrimitating moves in 18 years, she didn’t trust them. She even had Friday running the same program that Jarvis had been running since Stane was killed. She had been waiting for them to screw up.

And they had. Three days ago, Friday connected the pair to recent operations in Hydra as well as having a hand in illegally selling Stark weapons over 18 years ago. She didn’t know how they’d kept that under wraps for so long, or how Tony didn’t find it, but their mistake earned them a jail cell.

Pepper Stark stood up as the FBI entered the board room and she pointed to the two in question. Predictably they threatened her and her daughter, and now that Tony wasn’t around to protect them, they would be vulnerable. Pepper only smiled: a dare. If they came near her or Morgan, they’d learn that Tony was still protecting them through both his inventions and the Avengers. Not only that, but he’d given Pepper the means to protect them, and while she hadn’t donned the Rescue armor since Tony died, she was more that willing to use it to protect what she had left.

Now there were two empty spots to fill in the board, and she was in no rush. Tony didn’t want a board at all. He’d wanted it to be just them running things, and that appealed to Pepper but running the company and raising a daughter on her own…

She knew she could do it, but not without help. She had Happy, Rhodey, Peter, and even May to help with Morgan. But Stark Industries was all hers, and someday it would be Morgan’s. The remaining board members would remain until they gave her reason to dismiss them. They’d seen first hand what happens to those who cross the Starks.

With the board meeting over with, she needed to check in on R&D. With Tony gone, and Pepper unwilling to put someone she didn’t fully know what they were capable of into the position, the role of lead R&D manager had gone to the next qualified person she knew. Thankfully, he turned 18 this year  _ (though he was really 21) _ and while it was unorthodox to put someone so young into such a high position, Tony himself had been training him. Even if neither of them realized it at the time. And that tidbit got him a four to two vote in favor of being appointed R&D lead.  _ (Two guesses who was against it.) _ Peter Parker was brilliant and from the reports she’d been getting from the people under him in the department, he was well on his way to keeping the position after he finished college.

Peter had chosen to use a gap year to try the job out, and during college he could choose to work remotely, but had no obligation to do so. And with SI paying for college, as was promised with his actually legit internship,  _ (Tony had surprised her when he asked about it) _ Peter Parker would have no trouble getting any job he wanted, if he chose to not pursue R&D with Stark Industries.

Pepper hoped he would though. For not being even remotely related, he and Tony were very much alike, and she knew that this had been Tony’s plan from start. Actually, Tony’s plan had been to name him his heir, but then Thanos happened, and Morgan had been born, Tony started making preparations for her to take over when she was ready. Something Pepper hoped was going to happen after her retirement, and not something drastic like how Tony had been forced into it.

Walking into the first floor of R&D was always an experience. Tony equated it to walking through MIT on any given day, except instead of several thousand dollar projects, it was several multi-million dollar projects all on display in organized chaos throughout the large workspace. This was where the seeds of ideas either became reality and saw the SI production floors, or were sheveled for various reasons. Usually because they were deemed to dangerous to see completion. For now, it was Pepper who made the final decisions of which projects advanced, and which did not. That would be Peter’s job after graduation.

“Welcome to R&D, Mrs. Stark.” Pepper smiled at the teen, “It’s Pepper. How many times, Peter?”  
“Well, you’re my boss soooo...” he shrugged a little and smiled, and she was reminded of how many times Tony tried to get the kid to use his name for once instead of Mr. Stark all the time. It was only after the funeral that Peter starting calling him Tony, and usually when no one was listening. But Friday always was, and she saved all the instances that Tony was mentioned. Perhaps she missed her creator just as much and the rest of them. No one was quite sure how far Friday would advance, but if Jarvis was any indication, she may end up near human.

Pepper smiled at Peter as he launched into a detailed report of everything being worked on, and promised her an email with further details later in the day. Afterwards, when they’d returned to Peter’s office, he asked how Morgon was doing. She answered as she usually did when people asked about her daughter. How school is going great, she’s showing that Stark brilliance, she’s a healthy, happy kid. Peter gave her a sad smile. “Not what I was asking,” he said softly.

Pepper sighed quietly as Peter leaned on his desk. “I don’t know what’s going on with her. I know she misses Tony, but before she clung to anything that was his and wouldn’t let it go.” The shirt thing had only been the start. “Now she hardly ever has Friday play recordings like she used to.” She knew this conversation was so far out of Peter’s wheelhouse, he was still a kid himself  _ (one forced to mature quicker thanks to the superheroing) _ but still, talking felt good, and maybe Peter could help Morgan. No one could fill Tony’s shoes, and no one should ever try. Morgan already saw him a brother and mentor. They’d spent countless hours in Tony’s workshop working on things here and there.

“Maybe she’s,” he shrugged, “moving on?”  
Pepper shook her head, “I don’t know. I came home last night and Happy said she’d turned all the pictures with him on the mantle around.” Peter frowned deeply, “What, why?”   
“I asked her, and she got this look on her face, and just walked up to her room. She didn’t tell Happy either.”

She was so afraid that Morgan was starting resent her father, and she’d be lying if the vile thought hadn’t crossed her mind too. However briefly. She missed him so deeply sometimes that she felt like she was falling and would never reach the bottom. She had no one there to catch her anymore, and grief could be as ugly a beast as guilt could be. Late at night she’d wondered sometimes that if she’d told him to hang on… she wonders if he could have been saved.   


_ “Friday, vitals.”  
_ _ “His vitals are failing fast, Boss.” _

Letting him go was a mercy though. She knew that. After what he’d done to make sure they were safe  _ (because she was under no illusions that he’d died only for the world, it was always his family first) _ anything else was selfish. To force a man who was already quickly fading to hang on longer would only prolong his suffering. And they’d had no real hope of helping him in enough time.

She just missed him.  
So damn much.

_ 01101001 01110011 _

Stephen Strange took a half step backwards, trying to figure out if it was a trick of the light. But no. It wasn’t, but it was  _ impossible _ . He’d seen Tony’s body on the battlefield clear as day. Flesh and armor alike seared and damaged beyond repair, his life fading fast as his family quickly said their goodbyes. He’d seen that too many times as a doctor. It was why he’d never get too attached to his patients. Feeling that kind of sadness too many times… it ate at you. Except that had been the second time he’d seen it. Seeing Stark alive and well after viewing their only chance out of 14 million had been a shock. But before it was just a thing that might have happened if they took the right path. Now it was reality.

Or so he thought.

Strange looked to the alien shop owner and gestured toward the human who’d started on another piece. “I need to talk to him.” The large alien grunted, then shouted over the noise of the hammer. “Stark! Another Humey here to see ya.”

Stark? The man paused and looked behind him. He dipped the hot metal into the same bucket as before and set it on the anvil before walking over to Stephen. God this man even walked the same, and as he got into slightly better light… “Tony..?” The man paused behind the counter, a confused look on his face.

“Who?”

_ 01100001 01101100 01101001 01110110 01100101 _

Stephen’s brain had shorted out close to an hour ago, and now he was trying to dig up clues that would tell him how the hell this man could be Stark. Tony. He looked the same, talked the same, walked the same,  _ sounded _ the same. Even had the same brand of arrogance that made Strange want to throttle him.  _ (If only because it reminded him too much of himself.) _ He’d gotten a message to Wong to meet him at Kamar Taj and help him solve this mystery.

He heard the sparks of a portal opening in the empty library, but he didn’t look. He was too busy looking at the many, many books for one that could have some kind of answer. The trouble was that he had no clue where to start. Wong knew this library better than him.

“Stephen.”  
He looked over his shoulder, “Wong.” Maybe it had something to do with the Infinity Stones. Stark was the last person in this time line to use them, but Thanos destroyed them. He wondered… “Stephen what’s going on?”  
Strange felt the Cloak lift itself from his shoulders as he pulled down a book from the shelf, one of the few he knew of about the Infinity Stones. “Find every book you can on the Stones.” He turned to face Wong who looked worried and so very confused. Stephen lowered his voice, “I think Tony is alive.” He brushed past a dumbfounded Wong and walked toward the nearest desk, where the Cloak was floating calmly, and opened the book.

“Strange. We saw him die.”   
“I know.”   
“It’s impossible that he’s alive.”   
“I  _ know _ .”  
“Then why would you say that he is?”  
Stephen sighed hard, “Because I  _ saw _ him, Wong.”   
“Where?”  
“Uhhh, a planet called Crylic.”

_ “Look, I don’t know who you are. I woke up on Crylic  _ **_two_ ** _ years ago with only the word Stark in my head, so that’s what they call me. I don’t even  _ **_know_ ** _ what it  _ **_means_ ** _.” _

“Crylic… that isn’t close. That doesn’t explain how it was Stark.”   
Stephen finally looked up from the book and sighed again, “I talked to him, Wong. He doesn’t just  _ look _ like him. He  _ talks _ like him,  _ acts _ like him,  _ walks _ like him. If this is a copy, it’s a  _ damn _ good one.” He paused resting his weight on the desk, “I think the Stones did this.”   
“How? Better yet, why?”   
“I don’t  _ know _ . That’s why I’m  _ trying _ to find out as much as I can as fast as I can. Unlike you, I haven't read this whole library.”  
“Alright, alright. There’s a few more in the Ancient One’s old collection.”

Stephen nodded as Wong left to retrieve them. This book was turning out to be useless. The information not nearly as deep as he was looking for. It was filled with the most basic knowledge of the Stones, and Stephen didn’t need basic. Wong returned with two thick books that put any one of the Harry Potter books to shame. He passed one to Strange and kept one for himself. “What were you doing on Crylic anyway?”  
“I sensed a powerful anomaly.”   
“And it let you to Stark.”   
“No. It let me to Crylic.” He glanced at the Cloak floating by his side, “The Cloak led me to Stark.”

“Well,” Wong looked at the Cloak, “relics do tend to know more they let on.” With that the pair fell silent in their research. One thing was nagging at him. Stark said he’d woken up only two years ago. Not three. Crylic days were similar enough to Earth’s that the years should match up for the most part. Which means there was a whole year in which Tony Stark didn’t exist. Why the gap? And if he’s been there for two years, why would he be sensing this  _ now _ . Why not two years ago? And why doesn’t he remember anything? Why would the Stones dump him on another world with no memory? Why Crylic of all places? And why-- “Stephen.” He looked up at Wong as he turned his own book around for him read. “Look at this.”

Strange quickly read the page, then read it again. Then again. He felt his brain short out for the second time that day. “I need to make a call.”


	3. Dreams and Hopes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With far more conviction than he felt, he said, “They’re just dreams.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter beat me up yo.
> 
> Enjoy! <3

Crylic was largely known for three things: dusty shops, poverty, and hundreds of mixed species. Even after two years, Stark was still seeing new species wander through the market, haggling for things they needed but could barely afford. He took a long drink from the cup in his hand. Some bitter concoction he couldn’t remember the name of, but was hydrating and cold. Which was all he wanted at this moment. Working on glowing metal all day was hot, sweaty work on an already hot, sweaty planet.

He hated it. The planet that is.

The work was… comforting. Familiar in a way he couldn’t place. He supposed it was why he’d gravitated toward Bular’s forge. The rhythmic sound of a hammer on metal drawing him in and stimulating a memory he could never quite reach. A blue circle of light and a metal mask.

There were others too.

A beautiful fair skinned woman with copper hair.  
A small girl with hair and eyes like his.

Those two felt so, so important, and the dreams with them were frequent. Dreams of them saying something that he couldn’t hear, and waking up with tears in his eyes and not understanding _why_ . Why did he feel so _empty_ without them when he didn’t even know who _they_ were? There were others too. So many other people, things and places but they weren’t as clear, and trying to think any of them too deeply only served to give him a crippling migraine.

Shortly after he’d woken on Crylic, he’d been so desperate for clues to his past to try and remember something that he’d spend all the time he could wracking his brain. But every time he tried, the headaches would come, and if he pushed it, things would only get worse. It was Bular who’d found him passed out in the forge one time. He’d slept for near two days after that while a worried Bular fussed over him. Not that the alien would ever admit it. He didn’t like appearing soft. Especially toward a terran.

Terrans were among the lowest class on Crylic. And if they had any wealth to them, they were usually regarded as thieves. Not that there were many terrans roaming around. That one in the weird red cloak was only the second Stark had seen in about a year. Though he wasn’t sure if the first was a terran or something else. There were other species that could easily pass as human.

Stark turned his head as he head Bular walking toward him. “He gone?” he asked as he turned back to his drink. Bular set himself down in a chair next to him, “Yeah. Made a portal and left.” Stark could feel the alien’s eyes on him as he took a drink. “He’ll be back you know.”

_“Your name is Tony Stark.”_

Dumb name. ( _Why did it sound familiar? Why did it sound_ **_right_ ** ?)  
He set the cup down, “Yeah. Probably.”  
“What’re you gonna do about it?”  
“‘Bout what?” When he got no answer he turned to see Bular giving him the most dumbfounded look he’d ever seen on the alien’s face.

He huffed with indignation, “ _What?_ ”  
“You’re really not gonna pursue this?” Stark sighed and leaned on the table. “You’ve been looking fer answers fer _two_ _years_. _Now’s_ yer chance.”  
He picked his drink up again, but sat it back down. His breath was coming in short bursts. “Look, all I’ve ever gotten from trying to piece together my past is _pain_. _Literal_ pain. _Excuse me_ if I don’t wanna be in _excruciating pain_.” Bular raised his hands in a calming gesture, “Okay, okay.” Stark exhaled sharply and picked his drink up again, this time downing the rest of the contents in one go, hoping the bitter taste would be a distraction. It wasn’t. He heard Bular sigh quietly as he made a face at the taste of the drink. “I just assumed you’d want to know about yer past. About the dreams.”

Stark stood up abruptly and swallowed thickly, his heart hammered against his ribs like it was trying to escape the confines of his chest. With far more conviction than he felt, he said, “They’re just dreams,” and he started the short walk back to the forge. There was still work to do. He breathed deeply in an attempt to calm his racing heart, and stave off the blind panic he could feel building in his chest. They _weren’t_ just dreams. He _knew_ that down to the very  _fiber_  of his being. But trying to remember _hurt_.

What other choice did he have?

_01101100 01101111 01101111 01101011_

“Morgan! Lunch is ready!”

Pepper sat out two plates with sandwiches and a handful of chips on the table, and she forced herself to not look at Tony’s empty spot. Now would not be a good time to dwell, she could hear Morgan coming down the stairs and if she was going to figure out what was going on with her daughter, she needed to be level headed, not emotional.

As Morgan settled into her chair and started in on her sandwich, Pepper tried to engage her daughter in some lite conversation, but only got single word answers. Sometimes she got two words. This just felt like further confirmation that something wasn’t right.

Watching Morgan as she picked at her own sandwich, she couldn’t help but realize just how like Tony she was becoming. Clever and quick-witted as a start; that was clear from the moment she could talk. But what worried her most, was that she was picking up on the age old Stark trait: being bad at expressing emotions in a positive way. Tony joked and said he was ‘emotionally stunted’. She didn’t totally agree with him, but he wasn’t wrong either.

It had taken her years to get Tony to open up to her, to talk with her. And when he finally did, their relationship went so much smoother. They were happier and understood each other so much better. They still fought, of course, but it was nothing major and the figured things out quickly. Now it looks like she would need to help Morgan with the very same issue… at least she had practice. And wasn’t that a sad thought in and of itself.

Pepper would be kind and wait till her lunch was eaten. She knew, that also like Tony, if she got upset she wouldn’t finish it. And a growing girl needed her food. She was dreading the conversation, but not so much for how it would turn out. She could almost guarantee Morgan would be resistant. No, it was fear of the reason behind her odd behavior. Someone wouldn’t turn photos around unless they didn’t want to see them. But Morgan loved her father.

Before she could walk she was always reaching for him to carry her, to play with her. He even spoke to her in Italian like him mom did with him; a language she wasn’t fluent in, but had picked some up from listening to him. At first she was jealous of how much Morgan wanted him over her. But she also knew how afraid Tony had been of being a father. Of screwing it up and not being able to fix things. And while he’d learned that his father had indeed cared for him, it was two men being too similar as well as ‘emotionally stunted’. He didn’t want Morgan to have regrets like he did with his father. Now all Pepper could think of is how happy she was that Morgan got four really good years with her father.

Four good... short years.  
She took a quiet, steadying breath.

“I’m done,” Morgan announced as she started to slide off the chair.  
“Wait a minute, sweety.” The girl froze and looked at her mother. “Sit please.”  
Her daughter got back in the chair and started fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “Morgan.” Pepper took a breath, “can I ask you why you’ve been turning your father’s pictures around?”

She seemed to think about it for a moment, her eyebrows lowering in a look deep decision making that only a seven year old could pull off, “They make me sad.”  
“Because he’s not here?” She nodded. Pepper moved off her own chair and wrapped her arms around Morgan. Her heart tightened as she embraced her daughter, “If he could be here, he would be, sweetheart.”  
She could hear the tears in Morgan’s voice, “People at school say he _wanted_ to leave.”  
“Oh, honey, no. You father loved us. He loved _you_ so much.” She felt her own tears building. “He was saving us. He didn’t want to leave us, baby.”

Fat tears rolled down the little girl’s cheeks, “Then why did he? Why didn’t he save himself?” Pepper held back her own tears as she held her daughter close. She couldn’t find the words to explain that he couldn’t have saved himself, that there hadn’t been enough _time_ to try. Morgan pushed away suddenly and got out of the chair in one quick motion. “He should have tried!” she yelled, and ran up the stairs leaving Pepper with tears on her face, still kneeling by Morgan’s chair. She wiped her face and moved back to her own chair miserably.

 _God_. Now what?

 _“Ma’am.”_ Friday interrupted her, sounding almost… sad. _“Doctor Strange is calling you. He says it’s quite urgent.”_ Pepper took a moment to collect herself and dry the last of her tears. She reached for her cell phone on the table, “Put him through, Friday.”  
_“Mrs. Stark.”_  
“Doctor Strange, how are you?”  
_“I’m well. Listen, I found something you need to know. Can I come by? I don’t-- this isn’t something you should hear over the phone.”_  
“What’s this about?”  
_“Tony.”_

Part of Pepper wanted to tell him no, not today. Not after what had just happened, but there was something in Stephen’s voice. He hadn’t called very often in the last three years, usually to check up on them. She knew his role in what happened. Tony felt enough guilt over Strange giving up the time stone for him. And if Pepper knew Strange at all, she figured he felt guilt over Tony’s death. Hence the only reason she could fathom he’d check on them at all.

“Yes, that’s fine.”  
_“I’ll meet you outside.”_ The call ended and she made her way to the front door and stepped outside just as she heard the sparks of Strange’s portal. She took a breath and made it to the last step just as Strange stepped out from his portal a few yards from the porch. He looked at her, no doubt noticing that she’d been crying, but thankfully made no comment. She took another breath to settle her nerves and joined him where he waited.

“Pepper.”  
“Stephen.”

He swallowed, “I’m not sure how it’s possible, not exactly yet, but I need you to hear me out first.”  
She looked at him warily, “You’re worrying me, Stephen.”  
“A couple hours ago I sensed a powerful anomaly. Usually I don’t worry about them too much, but this one couldn’t be ignored. So went to the source, a planet called Crylic. It’s a few thousands light years from here.”  
Pepper looked confused, “This sounds more like an Avengers or Guardians of the Galaxy problem.”  
“I was thinking the same before I found the source.” He paused for a moment, “This won’t be… easy to hear, and I’m sorry.”  
She felt an emotion she couldn’t identify spread through her body, “You said this was about Tony?”  
“It is. Pepper, the source _is_ Tony. Or at least… someone who looks and acts an awful lot like him.”

She shook her head, “No. No, that’s impossible. Tony’s dead.”  
“I know,” he said, “But the last act of his life was to use the Stones. The Stones are sapient, and from the information I found _minutes_ ago, they can choose to _punish_ the user… or _reward_ them.” Pepper shook her head, denial setting in. This wasn’t a miracle that could happen, she’d spread his ashes and mourned him. Was still mourning him.

Stephen took a step closer, “Pepper, I spoke to him.” She looked up at him. “He said he woke up on Crylic two years ago, with no memory and the only thing he remembered was the word ‘Stark’. I don’t know how much he remembers, he wouldn’t listen to me, and I doubt he’d tell me anyway.” She scoffed. That sounded about right. Stephen put his hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t know him like you did. And if he remembers _anything_ … it’s going to be _you_ . You and Morgan.”  
“If it’s him.” she said quietly, looking at his cloak, anywhere but his face. She didn’t know if she could believe this.  
“If it’s him.” A pause. “I know I can’t ask this of you, but…”  
“You want me to talk to him.”  
“If it’s him. We can’t leave him there.”

She took a breath as she felt a new emotion wash over her. One she hadn’t felt in too long, one she thought she’d never feel again.

Hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Sentience and Sapience is often confused. (Like me before I decided to Google it while writing this.)
> 
> Sentience is the ability to feel things, the ability to perceive things. Animals (dogs, cats, dolphins, monkeys ect) are sentient.  
> Sapience is the ability to think, the capacity for intelligence and to gain wisdom. Humans are sapient.
> 
> So are cosmic stones of infinite power.  
> Cause comic book science.


	4. Dust and Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Panic clawed it way up his throat and he tensed ready to fight his way out of the Sorcerer's hold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter refused to be written. Glad I spent the extra time on it though. Hopefully everyone is believable.
> 
> Enjoy!

The sand swirls around their feet as they step through the golden portal, and the first thing Pepper notices is the heat. Even safely encased in the Rescue armor, it’s on the warm side. The cooling systems kick on, and she feels instant relief. She looks around her, and Friday categorizes all the information she can gather. Rescue’s glowing eyes find Strange as he moves forward.  
“Nice place,” She says as she joins him.  
“Yeah, a prime vacation spot.” He nods toward the depths of the busy marketplace, “He’s just this way.”

She doesn’t get nearly as many looks as she thinks she should get, but when another heavily armored alien wanders by, she feels the lack of looks might be justified. Even after meeting Thor, Rocket, Nebula and the rest of the Guardians after the Un-snap, she finds herself in a state of wonder at the the staggering amount of non-humans. According to Friday, there were no humans at all in her line of sight, besides Stephen, of course. And really, that was a the only reading she was watching closely. For the number of detected humans, to go from 1 to 2.

A large alien with a slight limp stepped in front of them, and the pair stopped short. He wore some type of dirty coveralls and advanced looking bits of armor on his forearms. She thought they looked like diagnostic screens, but she couldn’t get a clear look at them.  
“Haha,” he laughed boisterously, “I told him you’d be back.”  
Stephen smiled tightly, “Bular, was it?”  
“Yeh.” He sent a critical look towards Pepper and she stared right back. He jerked a thumb toward her and looked at Stephen, “Who’s this?”  
“A friend.” He said simply.  
“Hmpf.” Bular put his hands on his hips, “Yer’s or his?”  
Strange narrowed his eyes with a silent challenge, “Both.”  
Bular seemed to think it over while looking between them, then nodded and stepped closer, “Fer his sake, Strange. I hope yer right.”

“Why is that?” Pepper asks, her voice slightly distorted by her helmet.  
Bular seems surprised by her voice as he looks at her, “Huh. A woman. Hard to tell with Hummies sometimes. ...er, no offense.” Slight offense taken, but she said nothing and opted to see where this conversation led. He peered at her as if he was trying to see past her faceplate, “Say. You wouldn’t happen to have copper colored hair would ya?”  
She narrowed her eyes at him, “Why?”  
“Curious.” He crosses his arms over his chest defensively. She’d seen Tony do the same thing enough times. “But to answer yer question, he deserves better than this dust ball. All the better if he’s got friends lookin’ fer him.”  
“Family,” Strange corrected.  
“Even better. I’ll warn ya though, remembering ain’t pleasant fer him.”  
“So, he does remember.”  
“Aye,” Bular nodded. “Mostly it’s dreams, and never names with them. If he tries to trigger a memory himself… well, last time I found him sprawled out on floor, he slept for near two days and when he woke, his head still ached and he still didn’t remember a thing.”

Pepper looked at Stephen, “What does that mean?”  
“It means that _something_ is blocking his memories and it might not be normal amnesia.” He paused to think, “Depending on what that something is, I may be able to lift the block temporarily. The healers at Kamar Taj can do it permanently.”  
She found herself smiling under her helmet, and the tease slipped out before she could contain it, “Aren’t _you_ supposed to be the Sorcerer Supreme, Doctor Strange?”  
Stephen exhaled longsufferingly, the corner of his mouth upturned slightly, “Yes, but I can’t do a procedure _alone_ that’s designed to be carried out by _two_.” Strange looked up at Bular, “If you take us to him, I’ll do what I can about his head.” He gestured to Pepper, “Just seeing her might trigger memories.”

The alien nodded and started leading the way through the market streets.

She pondered over Bular's question. She supposed she did have copper hair, though there were other colors that could be more accurate. But if he was asking that question… did that mean that To-- that _he_ remembered her? She couldn’t think of him as Tony, not yet. Not till she knew for sure, her heart was stuck somewhere between denial and hope. With this information, hope seemed to be winning out but she pushed back and forced it down. It would rise again when she saw his face, she was sure, but for now she had to stay focused. Objective. But how could she stay objective when the facts seemed to pointing in one direction, and one direction only?

He’d make a joke about that somehow.  
God. How could this be Tony?

_01110100 01101111_

The hammer came down hard and he felt the vibration up to his elbow each time he struck the hot metal on the anvil. Truthfully, this was an old way of forming metal. There were better, faster and less physically exerting methods of forming and casting. But none of those where nearly as effective at getting pent up frustration out.

And boy was he frustrated.  
Strange. Stark shook his head. _Who does he think he is to come in here and tell me who I am? I don’t even_ **_know_ ** _him._

But what if he did?  
And he just forgot, like everything else.

In a sudden fit of pain and frustration, Stark flung the hammer and watched as it thumped solidly off the far wall and to the floor, tools and other bits attached the wall clattering with the force. He stumbled back to lean on the counter and grabbed his aching head. While he ran his hands over his face and rubbed at his temples, he trying to _not_ think of his past. To not think of how much the things Strange said made _sense_ . To not think about how much he _wanted_ to remember. How much he _wanted_ to feel like a _person_ instead of half a person.

His headache eased, but questions circled in relentlessly his mind. What if Strange was right? What if he had a life outside _this_? He wasn’t sure he knew what to do with that kind of information. Would he be able to properly remember, without fear of pain? Was that even a thing anymore? The prospect was tempting, but it felt so far away, so unreachable.

His hands fell to his thighs and he sighed deeply as he looked at his current project. He wasn’t even sure what he was making anymore. He’d seen the images in his head. A crudely formed, and primitive, but effective suit of armor. He wasn’t even sure what specific part he was working on anymore. Most of what he remembered in his dreams faded too quickly. Some things lingered a bit longer, while very few things never seemed to leave his mind.

He closed his eyes and saw copper hair, blue eyes and a soft smile. Stark winced at the quick, sharp pain in his head and then opened his eyes. Even remembering something that was always there hurt, and he felt the familiar sting of hopelessness lance through him.

The sound of heavy, uneven footfalls alerted him that Bular had returned, and he turned to greet the alien, but stopped short upon seeing the blue tunic, red cloak and smug face of one Stephen Strange. Stark rounded the counter to get up in the Sorcerer's face, the frustration from a few minutes ago fueling his anger and annoyance, “I told you already, Strange. I don’t know who you are, and I don’t care to.”  
Strange for his part looked at him with an expression that Stark wasn’t sure of, “Bular told us about the headaches. I think I can help you with that.”  
“Bular did  _what_ ?” He glanced at the alien who looked totally unashamed, “And who’s ‘ _we_ ’?”  
“Hi, Tony.”

That voice. It was carefully void of emotion but he _knew_ it. He _knew_ it so well that he could hear the undertone of emotion. Stark blinked hard and leaned to looked behind Strange to see a woman in silver and purple armor. The armor was… familiar to him, but the memory danced out of his reach as soon as he grabbed at it. He swallowed hard as the woman stepped forward and her helmet retracted. Copper hair spilled out from its confines and blue eyes sought his brown ones out. Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears. He blinked several times, and took a step backwards. _This was…_

“You know her,” Strange said softly, “don’t you.” He noticed it wasn’t phrased a question, and he wanted to say no. _No I do not know her at all, and pleaseleavemealone._ But the words refused to leave his throat. Maybe it was because his wildly beating heart was occupying that space right now. He felt like he could hardly breathe, let alone speak. Copper hair flashed in his mind's eye. That smile, those blue eyes.

_He was making his way through a throng of dancing and mingling people, a single person in his focus. She was wearing a dark blue dress with no back. He was enthralled by her, and thankfully no one stopped him along the way. He heard his own voice._  
_"You look fantastic." She turned around at the sound of his voice. "I didn't recognize you."_  
_She looked surprised to see him, "What are you doing here?"_  
_"Avoiding government agents."_  
_"Are you by yourself?"_  
_"Where’d you get that dress?”_  
_She smiled at him, “It was a birthday present… from you actually.”  
He felt himself smile in response, “I’ve got great taste, don’t I? You, uhh, wanna dance?”_

The real world came back into focus he found himself on his knees, his hands cradling his head. He vaguely noticed Strange on his right, and Bular on his left. His focus returned enough that he felt Strange’s hands on him, one the back of his neck, the other on his chest, and he could feel something, some kind of _energy_ flowing between the two points of contact. Panic clawed it way up his throat and he tensed ready to fight his way out of the Sorcerer's hold. He felt Bular put a large hand on his back with a firm, but gentle order, “Calm. Breathe. He’s helping ya.” He swallowed and stilled. He trusted Bular. The secretly soft alien who’d taken him in, gave him a job and generally made sure he survived while stumbling through life with no memories. He swallowed again as he felt the pain in his head lessen with each passing moment. He felt his focus sharpen just enough to be more aware of his surroundings.

He lifted his head and finally noticed the armored woman kneeling in front of him. He met her eyes, filled with genuine concern, and more memories floated to surface. All with her. They were more clear than they’d ever been before and he felt tears building in his eyes. Their near kiss, their first real kiss, his proposal, their wedding.

 _“May I have this dance, Mrs. Stark?” he asked with a broad, happy smile on his face, his hand outstretched for her to take._  
_She took his hand and stood up, “You may, Mr. Stark.” He saw her face split in a cheeky smile, “As long as you don’t disappear on me again.”_  
_He looked her in the eyes as his smiled softened, “Never.” He promised._

He gasped as the big milestones in their relationship came in shocking clarity. He blinked rapidly to bring her back into focus. He was breathing heavily, he realized distantly, and she was watching him carefully, like she was used to this. Used to seeing him like this. Panic-y and too lost in his own head to be thinking coherently; like she was waiting for him to make the first move.

A word, a name, slammed into him so forcefully that he nearly collapsed under the weight of it. The dam broke and tears blurred his vision. He let out a shaky breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, and her name slipped out in a whisper, “Pepper.” She nodded tearfully and reached, almost desperately, for his hands, like that was what she’d been waiting for. She smiled through her tears and whispered, “Hi, Tony.” He swallowed and squeezed her hands, his wife’s hands. The words tumbled from his mouth, “I’m so sorry, I don’t, I don’t--” She silenced him with a quick kiss and rested her forehead on his for a moment, before pulling back to look at him. “You’re okay, Tony.” On instinct, he lifted a hand to her cheek to wipe the tears away with his thumb, and exhaled shakily.

Strange adjusted his hand on his neck and reminded Stark-- no, Tony of their audience. He turned his head to look back at the man, “Will I--” He inhaled sharply, afraid of the answer, “Will I remember this?”  
“Yes. But I can’t keep this up for too much longer, and neither can you.” He paused for a second, “See if you can remember another name.”

He looked back at Pepper and remembered the girl in his dreams, the only other face he could ever see clearly. Dark hair and eyes like his. He remembered a quick wit and spitfire attitude and the most adorable smile. _“I love you 3000.”_ His throat constricted with a new wave of tears as more memories came to him. His hand reaching for a baby just finding her feet, encouraging her toward him and Pepper watching with a smile in the background. Late night secret juice pops, and bedtime stories told about heroes and villains. About a god and a super soldier, spies and green monster. Tales of wonder for a wide eyed little girl about an android and a young woman with amazing powers. A spider-boy and a metal man.

Pain lashed through his head and he squeezed his eyes closed and groaned. He heard Strange’s voice. “You’re digging up too much at once.” He said, “Focus on one thing.”

So he took a step back and tried to recall the girl’s name. He did his best to ignore the sudden onslaught of memories that threatened to sweep him away into oblivion. He focused on her smile, her laugh when he tickled her, her cries when she scraped her knee particularly badly one time. The feel of her hugging him tightly and the feel of her in his arms, _knowing_ that she felt safe and loved. The long nights when she was very young, and he and Pepper took turns going to her when she cried out at night and neither of them got near enough sleep for _weeks_. The feeling of how much he loved her, so much that he felt his heart might burst from it.

He opened his eyes and found Pepper’s eyes again and smiled with tears running down his face. With a voice thick with more feelings than he knew how to express, he said a single word, “Morgan.” Pepper’s tears started again too and she smiled happily and reached up to wipe the tears off his face before entwining their fingers again.  
He breathed deeply, “Our daughter.”  
“Yes,” she said as she carded her fingers in his hair, “and she misses you so much. Just like I have.”

He was breathing slowly but deeply now, the strain catching up with him. He suddenly felt so very tired and he closed his eyes. He distantly felt several pairs of hands catch him before everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am looking for a beta reader for this, so if anyone is interested, PM me.  
> I work primarily in Google Docs.
> 
> I also have a rough outline of where this story is gonna end up, so hopefully I can keep the chapters coming semi-regularly.


	5. AUTHOR'S UPDATE

Hey all, sorry for the false update, I really hate doing this, but I figured this is the easiest way to the get the word out.

Firstly, I'm still working on this.  
Secondly, I'm fixing things.

This honestly doesn't feel like it flows right, and I am still working out where I'm going. Like... I know where I wanna be, but the GPS is screwed up and I can't figure out how to get there. BUT, I'm hashing it out, writing down the bullets points and hopefully soon I'll have new stuff up for you all.

Also since this is Far From Home compliant, I want to go back and add some things to the previous chapters. Not just FFH stuff, but things I feel will add to the story and flow of the chapters, and the depth of the characters. I really just kinda threw this together in grief and now that there isn't a haze of tears, I can see things I wanna fix. So that's a thing.

I'm going to try to just gloss over FFH stuff (it's honestly not a huge plot point for this story as a whole, but I want to make it clear it's a thing that happened since our boy Pete will be important) so there shouldn't be any real spoilers for FFH for those that haven't see it yet (just put on your big kid pants, pack tissues, and go see it. Worth it 100%) After that.... probably not compliant, and anything that is will be pure coincidence.

So. Yeah. Things are coming. Just wanted to let you all know that this hasn't been forgotten.

Thanks so much for the kudos and comments and everything! You all are amazing!

ILU3k


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